


Of Ice And Men

by Aeriel



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe- Figure Skaters, Gen, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-16 13:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21037055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeriel/pseuds/Aeriel
Summary: Two years after his testimony put his coach Dino Golzine behind bars, American figure skater Ash "Lynx" Callenreese returns to the National Championships with something to prove.





	Of Ice And Men

**Author's Note:**

  * For [muuchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/muuchan/gifts).

> I hope you were serious when you suggested a skating AU because um, here it is! Also I couldn't resist the pun title.

The TD Garden. Boston.  
  
Four years ago, Ash had made his senior debut at Nationals in this very arena. Thirteen years old and burning with the desire to prove himself, to prove that everything Dino had put him through to get to this point had been _worth something_, he’d stepped out onto competitive ice in front of a crowd of thousands for the first time.  
  
It had been, to put it mildly, a disaster.  
  
_And that old bastard really let me have it afterwards, too._  
  
Ash winced at the memory, stuffing it down into the back of his mind as he breezed past the guards and volunteers on his way in.  
  
Dino was in jail now, thanks in no small part to Ash’s testimony, but the man’s legacy lived on in every YouTube clip of two years on the Junior Grand Prix circuit with Ash jutting out his hips and going through the motions of seduction towards judges that stared back with stony eyes and gave him 6.9s out of 10s in performance and interpretation of the music regardless of how scandalized the general figure skating public purported to be.  
  
“Ash!”  
  
He rounded a corner, letting Shorter hurry his steps to catch up with him.  
  
“Good thing this place is actually heated, huh? Vancouver was like skating in an igloo by comparison…”  
  
Ash raised his eyebrows slightly at Shorter. “Is that why you did so many doubles at the Grand Prix Final? Cold feet?”  
  
Shorter made a big show of outraged hurt. “Two! Two popped jumps! That’s not so many!”  
  
“Too many for the podium.”  
  
“Hey, fuck you,” Shorter said good-naturedly, clapping him on the back. “Eiji’s here.”  
  
That made Ash stop in his tracks.  
  
Eiji wasn’t supposed to be at Nationals, or even in Boston. Eiji was supposed to be back in New York, training for Worlds or even the Four Continents Championship now that he’d won silver at Japanese Nationals and qualified for both.  
  
“He came down on a bus today with Jessica. I’m not sure who Max is more pissed at.” Shorter laughed.  
  
Ash’s first impulse was to ask where Eiji was, then to look around and make sure no one was fucking eavesdropping on them. And sure enough…  
  
“Eiji Okumura?” Yut-Lung Lee smirked as he approached, rolling his little suitcase no doubt given by a sponsor. “How sweet, your boyfriend’s here to watch you lose to me again.”  
  
“I’m not going to lose.” Ash put a hand on his hip, raising his eyebrows. “And if you try to get someone to run that headline I guarantee you’ll see rainbow flags waving for me on Wednesday night. So don’t try and play games with me.”  
  
“Who’s playing games?”  
  
Ash turned to see Blanca, one of his former trainers and Yut-Lung’s current coach, smiling. Otherwise known as Sergei Varishkov, but Dino had always called him Blanca, and the habit stuck.  
  
Shorter yelped. “Don’t sneak up on us like that, Varishkov!”  
  
Blanca laughed, walking over to Yut-Lung’s side. “Defending a title is a difficult business. And the work starts… now.”  
  
Yut-Lung scowled. “I’ll see you on the ice, Ash Lynx.”  
  
After he’d walked away with Blanca, Shorter glanced at Ash. “Do you think he realizes that I’m the one in his practice group, not you?”  
  
Ash snorted.  
  
Several hours later, he met Eiji alone at an Indian restaurant in Cambridge.  
  
“This place is really nice,” Eiji said brightly, before scanning the menu. “Er… I hate to admit it, but I don’t recognize anything on this menu apart from the word “curry.” Help me pick out something not too spicy?”  
  
Ash smiled, relaxed despite himself. “Sure. Most of the really spicy stuff is labeled though, see?”  
  
“Oh.” Eiji laughed. “Hey, how did your first practice of the competition go? I was thinking about going to see for myself, but Jessica dragged me around Boston to see the sights.”  
  
“Fine. Fell a couple times, but at least I didn’t slide ass-first into the boards.”  
  
“As long as you didn’t hurt yourself,” Eiji said, a little too earnestly for comfort. “That matters way more than keeping up your cool image.”  
  
Ash grinned. “You think I have a cool image?”  
  
“W-well, of course! Have you seen some of the pictures they print of you?”  
  
“Maybe in Japan.” In the good old USA, no paper or even magazine covered skating unless it was the Olympics. Which did come with its upsides, such as being able to relax in a nice restaurant without being recognized by anyone obnoxious.  
  
As if reading his mind, Eiji chimed in, “Which reminds me, I still can’t believe there’s a competition tomorrow and you can just walk around this city without any autograph requests!”  
  
Ash laughed. “Boston’s pretty big. You’re not surprised no one bothers us in New York, are you?”  
  
“Well no, but…” Eiji frowned. “Where are all the fans?”  
  
“Closer to the arena, probably. Believe me, if we were in a small town with nothing going on like say, Lake Placid, we’d be tripping over them.”  
  
Eiji laughed. “If you competed for Japan, there would be fans waiting for you at the airport.”  
  
“There were fans waiting for you at the airport last month?”  
  
“I said if _you_ were, not me,” Eiji pointed out. “But there were photographers, yes.” He smiled, a little. “It can get overwhelming sometimes, but I really am so grateful that I have fans that stuck with me through the injury and everything.”  
  
Ash shrugged uncomfortably. Fans were a double edged sword. In his experience, they could turn on you as quickly and fiercely as they once claimed to adore you. But his experience wasn’t Eiji’s.  
  
Two years ago, Eiji had suffered a near career-ending injury in the lead up to Junior Worlds. He’d missed the competition, missed the entire following season. And when he returned, it was obvious that he’d lost all his quad jumps, without which it was hard to be competitive within Japan, let alone internationally.  
  
After that, urged by Ibe, a photographer who had been covering Eiji’s journey, Eiji had decided to make a drastic change— moving to America to train with Max and give himself the best shot of fulfilling the promise everyone had said he’d had before he fractured his ankle.  
  
Given all that, Ash had expected… bitterness, maybe. A certain degree of world-weariness, at least. But Eiji positively radiated joy and sense of gratitude every time he stepped onto the ice. He wanted good results of course, he wouldn’t have moved literally across the world without some sense of that, but at heart, Eiji was a kid who loved to skate.  
  
“Which reminds me!” Eiji grinned a little too widely. “One of my fans drew a little comic with you in it!”  
  
“They…. what?” Ash started to laugh, but just shook his head.  
  
“Hey, it’s cute, I swear! Let me dig it out for you.”  
  
Ash didn’t know what he’d expected— childish scribbles maybe, or two hyperrealistic figures on ice. Instead, it really was a little series of panels, mostly of a slightly stylized but very recognizable Eiji with lines of Japanese writing around it until the very last panel, which had…  
  
“That’s me?” Ash laughed. “I look like a lion with that hair.”  
  
Eiji laughed too, though he looked almost apologetic towards the comic’s unknown creator. “You’re cheering for me! See?”  
  
Ash squinted. He recognized the word “go” meticulously rendered in English, but next to it was more unknown characters. Although these looked a little more familiar.  
  
“That’s… your name, right?”  
  
He’d seen Eiji smile plenty of times before. But even for Eiji, this qualified as practically glowing from within.  
  
“When did you learn my name in kanji?” Eiji laughed softly, shaking his head. “You’ve been holding out on me, saying you didn’t know any Japanese except _kawaii_ and _ganbare._”  
  
“I really don’t, I just recognized some of it from the videos of Japanese Nationals.” Ash lifted up the menu, burying his face in it. “Do you like cheese? Paneer is cheese.”  
  
“Don’t change the subject!”  
  
They eventually settled on samosas, a curry for Ash and a thali combination plate for Eiji so he could try a variety of flavors. After the waiter collected their menus and orders, Eiji grinned at Ash.  
  
“I was thinking of throwing you a stuffed lynx with a pumpkin around its head.”  
  
Ash scowled at Eiji. “I never should have told you about the pumpkins!”  
  
“Don’t worry, I’m not good enough with a sewing machine to put it together.” Eiji laughed. “And lynxes are hard to find. How many have you gotten, anyway?”  
  
“A lot. A few tigers and leopards too.” Ash stretched his hands over his head. “Also a goat once, for some reason. Someone threw potato chips to Shorter last year, that was pretty funny. I guess he tweeted about being hungry one too many times.”  
  
Eiji smiled faintly. “It sounds really cute. I kind of wish I had a mascot animal.”  
  
“I don’t keep most of them.”  
  
“Well, I want a little lynx.” Eiji’s smile widened. “Save one for me this weekend?”  
  
Ash laughed. “You can pick one out yourself. I’ll donate the rest next week.”  
  
“None for Skip?”  
  
“He already has three. He’ll need the room for his own stuffed animals once he goes junior.” Ash felt a smile coming on at the thought. “He was so mad when he found out he couldn’t come and compete here as a novice like I did way back when.”  
  
Eiji laughed. “Six or seven years ago isn’t ‘way back when’, Ash.”  
  
“You sound like the old man,” Ash snorted.  
  
“Max? Well, he’s right!”  
  
“This is figure skating. Seven years ago is an eternity.”  
  
Their food came, and Eiji exclaimed with delight over the cute little portions arranged on a platter, which was hard not to smile at, and then they were mostly occupied with eating.  
  
“Hey, Ash. Does Nationals make you nervous?”  
  
Ash wasn’t expecting the question, and so deflected it almost on instinct. “Why would it?”  
  
“Well…” Eiji hesitated. “You’re so good, but you’ve never won here. It just surprises me.”  
  
As usual, Eiji managed to get right to the heart of things, right where nobody should have been able to see. Ash closed his eyes briefly, then looked at Eiji.  
  
There was no judgement in Eiji’s face— just curiosity and the slightest edge of concern.  
  
Ash let out a breath. “Nationals was the first major competition I was eligible for. Couldn’t do the junior circuit that season because my birthday was a month too late but I was thirteen by January so that was good enough to debut as a senior. Before I’d even been a junior. And juniors don’t skate in front of crowds like that.”  
  
Eiji nodded sympathetically. “But you were a kid, so there couldn’t have been any—“  
  
“Pressure? Expectation that I was going to win?” Ash let out a bitter laugh. “You never met Dino. He had videos of me on social media doing quad jumps long before then. The fans already knew my name. Hell, they were calculating the odds that I’d win the next _Olympics._ I was in a commercial for NBC at age twelve.”  
  
“That’s…” Eiji’s mouth opened, then closed. “Wow. What about Shorter and Yut-Lung? Weren’t they around back then?”  
  
“Not ready for primetime. And though they prefer them to be girls, the American media loves their ‘all-American’ blond sweethearts.” _Almost as much as Dino_.  
  
“So…” Eiji frowned. “It was just too much, then?”  
  
“Not at first. After the short, I was on track to become the youngest US men’s champion ever.” He still remembered the almost unreal rush of it all, the blinding lights of the press conference afterwards and how strangely detached he felt as he plastered on a big fake smile and lied in every interview. “And then, right before I stepped onto the ice for my final warm up in the free skate, suddenly it occurred to me. _What if I lose?”_ He swallowed. “That was all it took, the one question in my mind. And knowing what it would cost me with Dino as my coach.”  
  
He saw the horror flit through Eiji’s face, giving way to something else Ash couldn’t quite place. He’d never discussed with Eiji even a fraction of what Dino had done to him, but well, Eiji had access to Google like everybody else and it wasn’t like the newspapers hadn’t covered the trial in lurid detail at the time.  
  
Ash had seriously considered quitting skating after that, mostly deciding to stay just out of spite._ Fuck you, you don’t get to decide when I’m done. You don’t get to bury my achievements and pretend you never loved me because I embarrassed your shitty organization. Watch me, assholes. _  
  
And maybe, just maybe, there was the question of what he could accomplish in the sport without Dino’s boot on his neck. With his own choreography, his own choices of music and his own motivation.  
  
Ash was brought back to the present abruptly by Eiji’s hand covering his.  
  
“You don’t need to win, you know.”  
  
That was a sentence Ash really hadn’t expected to hear.  
  
“I mean, I believe you can and you will!” Eiji said hastily. “And obviously I really want to go to Worlds with you. I just… wanted you to know that it’s not the end of the world if you aren’t perfect.”  
  
Against his will, Ash found himself starting to smile. “You’re right.” He paused. “But honestly, if I don’t at least get on the damn podium this year, I’m going to be really pissed off at myself.”  
  
Eiji laughed, and they paid the bill.  
  
The draw for the short program order was the next day. Shorter pulled first to skate in the final group and laughed about it after groaning (“My least favorite place!”); Yut-Lung last, with Ash slated for right before him.  
  
That could be good. It meant if he skated well, Yut-Lung would have to hear his score and it might throw him off.  
  
It also meant if he did terribly Yut-Lung would be the first to know, but he wasn’t going to do terribly. He was too well trained for that.  
  
The men’s short program was scheduled in the early afternoon, which meant an earlier start for Ash and Shorter over at the practice rink while Pairs was happening in the main rink.  
  
Practice went well— clean run-through and no falls, which was an improvement on yesterday. No audience to distract him, of course, because the press didn’t whoop and wolf-whistle.  
  
But when Ash said as much to Max, Max shook his head.  
  
“Hey kid, why are you trying to convince yourself your hard work’s not paying off? Last time I checked you weren’t exactly scared of performing in front of a crowd, either. So stop trying to psych yourself out.”  
  
When Ash arrived at the main rink, his gut began to churn. He strode through the mixed zone, ignoring the camera men and focused on the back of the guy in front of him’s head.  
  
“…like skating last, it gives me the opportunity to be what the audience remembers on their way home tonight.”  
  
He couldn’t help it, he glanced over and saw Yut-Lung off to the side, giving an interview. Yut-Lung noticed him and flipped his hair, smirking at Ash before turning back to the reporters.

Ash rolled his eyes.  
  
He put his earbuds in as soon as he was able to, cycling through the same playlist he’d listened to before every short program this season. He marked out his program a few times, once glancing up to almost bump into Shorter doing the same thing with his massive headphones on.  
  
Ash stayed on his feet for the most part, talking to Shorter a few times when Shorter’s headphones were off. Light, dumb conversations.  
  
The time came both sooner than seemed possible and just in time for it to be a sort of relief.  
  
Yut-Lung sidled up to Ash as they walked through the curtains into the arena.  
  
“Ready to lose again?”  
  
Ash snorted. “Don’t trip over your toepicks on your way out there.”  
  
Thumping pop music hot off the charts of five years ago blasted through the arena and the gate opened. Ash was last onto the ice, handing off his skate guards to Max (who had Shorter’s clutched in his other hand) before heading out at top speed.  
  
_“…representing the Skating Club of New York, Shorter Wong!”_  
  
Cheers and a few wolf-whistles rang out through the arena, and Ash smiled, knowing without looking that Shorter was reveling in their enthusiasm. The judges didn’t always like Shorter’s style, but his popularity had shot up the last couple years, and his punk-rock programs were audience favorites this season.  
  
There were more subdued cheers for the next couple guys, whose names were familiar to Ash from years on the circuit. And then—  
  
_“…representing the Skating Club of New York, Ash Callenreese!”_  
  
The crowd roared— its loudest yet— and Ash looked up briefly and smiled.  
  
Eiji was out there.  
  
He went to start his step sequence, only to have to swerve out of the way to avoid Yut-Lung, who had evidently decided right now was a great time to stop dead at center ice and practice his final pose.  
  
Ash suspected it was deliberate, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on Yut-Lung’s vendettas.  
  
He went into a layback spin, a move he’d always been uncomfortable with until Eiji insisted they work on it together. Which really meant Eiji helping him, because Eiji had one of the best laybacks in the men’s field.  
  
Multiple commentators and fans had remarked on Ash suddenly getting level 4s instead of the old level 3s on his spins this season.  
  
_“…representing the Corsican Skating Club, Yut-Lung Lee!”_

_What the absolute hell?!_  
  
The announcers used to stumble over the name, but they pronounced it with utmost care tonight, and the crowd went wild, at least as loud as for Shorter (though Ash suspected little overlap between their fans) and maybe even as loud as for Ash.  
  
If so, that was going to change.  
  
Ash fell on the first quad he attempted, a quad lutz. He got up, skated around and went for a triple lutz. When he landed that, he skated back around and went for the quad lutz again— no problem.  
  
Cheers resounded through the building.  
  
After the warm-up ended, Ash grabbed his skate guards and tapped Yut-Lung on the shoulder before they went through the curtain.  
  
“Hey. Why are you representing Dino’s club?”  
  
Yut-Lung smiled, with all the subtlety and sincere charm of a snake. “Because you abandoned it. Blanca!”  
  
Blanca appeared as they crossed into the mixed zone, carrying Yut-Lung’s tissue box, water bottle and coat. “Yes?”  
  
Yut-Lung grabbed his water bottle and took a great big gulp out of it, while Ash raised his eyebrows at Blanca. _You’re letting him treat you like this? Really?_  
  
They heard the crowd screaming as Shorter’s name was called, and Ash sighed.  
  
“I’ve got better things to do than waste my time letting you try and provoke me. Make sure he doesn’t choke, Blanca.”  
  
_Good thing I’m not skating next,_ Ash reflected as he walked away. Hearing Dino’s club name had genuinely fucked with his head. He should’ve known better than to try to have a conversation with Yut-Lung, especially right before competition.  
  
He wished he could watch Shorter, but he needed to focus on preparing himself so he was ready to go out there.  
  
This was only Ash’s second year at Nationals without Dino. And last year… well, he’d gotten to stand next to the podium with the fucking joke of a pewter medal they handed out if you finished fourth in the US. The humiliation had burned so badly Ash had skipped out on the gala, the banquet and the fucking Friends of Figure Skating breakfast while he was at it.  
  
Not this year.  
  
Ash dug out his phone and earbuds and pressed play on his short program music, a cut down version of Pink Floyd’s _Shine On You Crazy Diamond_. He listened to it once with his eyes closed, leaning against a wall with his hands jammed in his pockets. Then he stood up, went to the middle of the room and played the music again, going through the choreography with his whole body and marking the jumps.  
  
He saw Max heading towards him, slapping Shorter on the back while Shorter laughed, hauling a bag of fan gifts under one arm.  
  
“How was it?”  
  
“Good!” Shorter was still a little out of breath, grabbing hold of Ash’s water bottle.  
  
“Hey!”  
  
Shorter took a small gulp, holding up one hand, then tossed the bottle back to Ash. “It’s a great audience tonight, really loud. Felt like I was a rockstar.”  
  
Ash wasn’t sure whether that was good for him or not.  
  
Shorter went to relax in the green room (“there may or may not be puppies in there!”) and Ash went back to his corner, trying to ignore the occasional cameraman.  
  
Finally, Max tapped him on the shoulder. “Should probably get out there. Soo-Ling’s just started.”  
  
Ash nodded, and followed Max and the familiar notes of Michael Bublé’s _Feelin’ Good_ out through the curtains back into the arena.  
  
Shorter was right— the audience was loud. They shouted encouragement for Soo-Ling Sing even as he barely managed to hang onto his triple loop, and Ash couldn’t see an open row of seats anywhere when he looked around, which was unusual.  
  
Soo-Ling skated over towards his coach, and the gate manager opened the gate for Ash as Soo-Ling stepped back onto solid ground.  
  
Ash heard a few whoops from the audience as he skated the length of the ice, a sure sign that he had some zealous fans out there.  
  
_One of them might be Eiji._  
  
The thought made Ash smile.  
  
Feeling confident with the ice under his blades, Ash circled back to Max for a few final words of advice.  
  
_“The scores please for Soo-Ling Sing.”_  
  
Max slapped one hand down on the board. “Kid, they’re rooting for you. Don’t shut them out, but don’t let them distract you too much. Own the ice, own the damn arena.”  
  
Soo-Ling’s score was announced, and there was applause, but some palpable disappointment as well. It wasn’t a great score.  
  
_“Soo-Ling Sing is currently in second place.”_  
  
Ash nodded to Max, and pushed off from the boards.  
  
_“On the ice now, next to skate, representing the Skating Club of New York. Ash Callenreese!”_  
  
Ash raised his arms and the screams from the audience were almost deafening.  
  
He turned sharply into center ice, flashing a grin at the judges before posing with his hands folded behind his head.  
  
Guitars wailed and Ash spread his arms, throwing back his head and spinning slowly once on one leg, the other tracing a circle around him.  
  
Each and every step counted, but he could feel the crowd collectively holding its breath as he went into his first jumping pass, the combination.  
  
He slammed his toepick into the ice and launched himself into the quad lutz, sailing out of it on the edge of his blade and sweeping his hands out in a dramatic gesture as the screams rang from the rafters.  
  
_One down._  
  
Ash swaggered across the ice with all the bravado he could put on, deep in his knees before rising up and twirling quickly on one foot and throwing up one arm before he began the series of steps that led into his combination.  
  
_Quad toe._  
  
_Triple toe._  
  
Ash allowed himself to smile before rushing forward to the music and lunging forward with one hand out, spreading his fingers as if to grasp the judges by the throat before pulling back his hand and swerving back around, up on both toe picks and back down again.  
  
Gathering speed with both feet, he threw his hands out as he leaped into a flying sit spin, changing positions before rising up again (careful to stay on the one foot) and slowing down just enough to complete the required number of rotations, before skating forward into a second spin, this one a somewhat shaky camel.  
  
_Just one jump left._  
  
He counted with the music as he gathered speed in another backward crossover, pushing forward with both hands and raising one leg to push out with it as well before turning into the set-up for his triple axel.  
  
Right on the music, he swung his leg forward and flew into what felt like possibly the most perfect triple axel he’d ever done in his life, right down to the easy landing.  
  
Throwing himself into the step sequence, Ash swung his arms and kicked up his leg and zig-zagged his way across the ice, arching up and back and forward until it was time for his final layback spin, as drilled so many times with Eiji.  
  
Ash grinned as he went into it, because he hadn’t done this well to fuck up on a _spin_ now.  
  
And there he was, in his final pose, one fist held up to the air with his legs apart, and he could see the audience getting to their feet, the TD Garden all but shaking with their screams as stuffed animals and fake flowers went flying onto the ice.  
  
_I did it._  
  
Well, he mentally amended, there was still a free program to get through, but this… this wasn’t nothing. This was important. He hadn’t had a short program this good at Nationals since his very first.  
  
_“Ash Callenreese!”_  
  
He took his bows, unable to stop grinning, and the audience roared and stomped their feet.  
  
As he turned to go back to the gate, he saw Max jumping up and down, and started laughing. He’d never get used to the sight of the old man this excited.  
  
Almost off the ice, Ash saw one of the little sweeper girls picking up a stuffed lynx with a glittery black jacket that resembled his own.  
  
“Hey.” He turned, reaching out to pat the girl on the head. “Can I have that one now?”  
  
She turned, wide-eyed, and nearly dropped the lynx at the sight of him. “O-of course!” the little girl stammered, shoving the toy up into his hands.  
  
He brought it back with him to Max, who grabbed him in a massive bear hug before Ash could say a word.  
  
“Get off me!” Ash shoved him away, though the effect was probably spoiled by the fact that he still couldn’t stop smiling.  
  
“Fix that camel spin and you’d have a perfect program, you little jerk! I knew you had it in you!” Max paused, taking in the stuffed animal. “Hey, you found a friend!”  
  
“It’s for Eiji,” Ash muttered, embarrassed. “He said he wanted one.”  
  
“Sure, sure. Let’s hear your scores!”  
  
They walked over to the Kiss and Cry, Max yammering on about this and that little thing as he passed Ash his red skate guards.  
  
The screen in front of them (as well as all sides of the jumbotron) was playing bits of Ash’s performance in slow-motion, and Ash was gratified to see that everything looked as good as it had felt.  
  
The last slow-motion view of his fist slowly rising into the air faded away, and Ash found himself looking at a reflection of his sweaty, exhausted face at that very second as cheers rose up from the audience again.  
  
Max punched his shoulder. “Come on, smile a little bit more!”  
  
“I _am_ smiling,” Ash protested. “Anyway, the scores aren’t in yet, it’s not like—“  
  
_“The scores, please, for Ash Callenreese.”_  
  
“Well, that was quick.”  
  
Ash clenched his hands together, praying he hadn’t gotten hit with any underrotation or edge calls or low artistic marks like last year.  
  
The score appeared on the screens, and the audience screamed while Ash just stared, flabbergasted.  
  
It was a good score. It was in fact, ten points higher than his personal best.  
  
Without meaning to, his gaze drifted to Yut-Lung on the ice, drifting along with a subtly furious expression on his face.  
  
_Yut-Lung has to beat that score. And he knows it._  
  
Slowly, Ash began to grin.  
  
_“Ash Callenreese is currently in first place.”_  
  
The moment he stepped into the mixed zone, Shorter nearly knocked him over with a hug, chattering away about how brilliant he’d been, and at least five mics were shoved into his face before he even had time to blink.  
  
Fortunately Max waved them all away, reminded most of them that there was a press conference still to come that he was required to be at and that they would prefer to wait to give interviews until then.  
  
In the background, the first eerie notes of Saint-Saëns' Aquarium began to play.  
  
Yut-Lung was skating.  
  
Shorter was talking to Soo-Ling, and Jessica had evidently come backstage, leaving her and Max to argue about something. On the screen Ash could see Yut-Lung stretch his arm and leg into an arabesque as he glided down the ice, his blue-green costume glittering, and then, improbably, twist around into a triple axel.  
  
And land it, with a graceful flowing landing that was perfectly on the music.  
  
Slowly, Ash turned around and gave the screen his full attention.  
  
For whatever morbid reason, Yut-Lung had announced his program was called _The Drowning Man_ and for the first time, Ash saw that was exactly what he was performing. Every gesture, every movement down to the spins and the jumps, was pure desperation. When the music picked up, changing to Danse Macabre, Yut-Lung went into a frenzy, attacking the step sequence with such passion that he looked as though he could put a foot wrong and trip at any moment, finally flinging himself onto his knees and throwing his hands out in his final pose.  
  
“Well, shit,” Shorter said, speaking before Ash could. “That might’ve just been the skate of his life.”  
  
Ash exhaled. “I think I’d better say goodbye to first place.”  
  
It was close.  
  
Actually absurdly close, considering the complications of the judging system. Ash led on technical difficulty, Yut-Lung led on artistry.  
  
The final difference was 0.02 between first and second place in the short program.  
  
In Yut-Lung’s favor.  
  
“And me in third back fifteen points!” Shorter shook his head. “Unless the both of you spend the free program entirely on your asses, the title’s not going to be mine this year.”  
  
“Just keep your head together and you can still get on that World team!” Max said encouragingly. “And Ash, look, it was close. That panel could’ve easily gone your way tonight—“  
  
Ash shook his head. “He did exactly what he needed to. The night was his. If he skates like that again tomorrow, he’ll have defended his title.”  
  
“Ash—“  
  
“Look, Ash—“  
  
Ash held up his hand. “I need to be alone for a bit, okay? Just let me get through the interviews and the draw and we’ll talk tomorrow.”  
  
He said a lot of words he didn’t fully mean, “this is exactly where I need to be” and “if I do my job I’m sure I can win” and so on and so forth. The one honest moment was when someone asked him if he’d seen Yut-Lung skate, what he’d thought.  
  
Ash looked into the camera and laughed, just laughed.  
  
“I’ll never forget it. Tell him I said that if you want.”  
  
And then, finally, he was alone, riding the shuttle back to the hotel with his earbuds in blasting whatever.  
  
Ash had always thought that his best was enough to beat anyone else’s best. That’s what Dino had told him, over and over. And truthfully, tonight hadn’t been his absolute best. He’d fucked up a spin, or at least not been perfect on it. Usually that didn’t matter, but up against everything Yut-Lung had to give, it had mattered.  
  
_But what if it was just another lie Dino told me?_  
  
_What if my best isn’t actually _the_ best?_  
  
_Or what if I’m just not capable of being perfect enough for it to matter?_  
  
“Ash?”  
  
Ash paused right before the door of the hotel room he was sharing with Shorter, keycard in hand, and turned.  
  
Eiji smiled, almost sheepishly. “Hello.”  
  
He relaxed immediately. “Hello.”  
  
Shorter hadn’t come in yet, so they had the room to themselves for the time being.  
  
“It’s weird, sitting in the stands to watch you skate like I’m a regular fan,” Eiji laughed. “You were amazing tonight.”  
  
Ash resisted the urge to shake off the compliment, to tell Eiji he knows he wasn’t good enough. Instead, he forces out a “Thanks.”  
  
It didn’t fool Eiji, though. “Hey, I mean it, okay? So what if you’re behind by a literal fraction of a point? Don’t tell me you got off the ice beating yourself up like this, I saw you out there.”  
  
Faintly, Ash smiles. “Level 4 Layback Spin.”  
  
“That’s the spirit!” Eiji grinned.  
  
It was so easy to relax around Eiji, to forget that technically, he was competition too. Dino always told him it was hopeless trying to be friends with other men’s single skaters, not that Dino encouraged him to make friends with anybody else his own age. _They’ll hate you when you win and you’ll hate them if they do._  
  
Ash couldn’t imagine hating Eiji.  
  
“I’m glad you’re here,” Ash admitted.  
  
Eiji beamed. “Oh, Max said you had a present for me?”  
  
He’d forgotten completely, but it was true. “Oh yeah.” Ash gestured at his bag. “Open it up, you won’t miss it.”  
  
Eiji eagerly pounced on the suitcase, unzipping it and exclaiming with joy at the little lynx perched on top of Ash’s skates.  
  
“I thought you’d like it.” Ash felt the beginnings of a smile start to tug at the corners of his mouth again. “See, it’s wearing my costume.”  
  
“It’s amazing!” Eiji held up the lynx, trying to make it do Ash’s starting pose, but unable to get both its short limbs crossed behind its head. “This is the one you had in the Kiss and Cry, isn’t it? I’ll treasure it.”

Ash smiled, and tried not to think of Eiji in the audience tomorrow, his beaming smile faltering as Ash fell on the ice.

  
  
  
The next day dawned bright and all too early. Just like the day before, Ash and Shorter got a light breakfast before heading to the practice rink.  
  
It was a rough practice, at least for Ash. He stumbled out of his first triple axel attempt, then fell out of a spin during his run-through.  
  
“What are you _doing_ out there?” Max shook his head. “You’re skating last tonight, remember? You’ve got to hold it together.”  
  
Eventually, he just got too frustrated to continue. Stiffly bowing to the assembled press, he was the first to leave the ice.  
  
“Hey, who told you to give up?” Max followed him. “I didn’t give you permission to— unless, you’re not injured or something are y—?”  
  
“I don’t need your fucking _permission,”_ Ash spat. “And I’m not your only problem. Go back out there and talk to Shorter, he could actually use you.”  
  
“I don’t take orders from you, kid!”  
  
“Stop giving them to me, then!”  
  
“I’m your coach!” Max hollered after him, but Ash just kept walking.  
  
Eventually he hit some sort of park on the waterfront, and his cell phone rang. Ash pulled it out of his bag.  
  
Eiji.  
  
Exhaling a slow, shaky breath, Ash answered the phone.  
  
“Ash? Where are you?!”  
  
Somehow, Eiji found him. He admitted he was supposed to get Ash back to the hotel at least, but instead they sat down on a bench.  
  
“I really don’t want to lose to Yut-Lung.” _Again._  
  
“Well, you can’t control what he does,” Eiji pointed out. “You’ve just got to give it your best shot. That’s all anybody can ask of you.”  
  
Ash scuffed the toe of his shoe against the ground. “You said I didn’t need to win.”  
  
“And I meant it.” A pause. “But I also know you’ll regret it if you don’t try your hardest. I’m here for you either way, but… it kind of feels like you’re assuming you’re going to fall short right now.”  
  
Eiji was right, of course. It wasn’t just the spin or the fraction of a point loss. It was seeing Yut-Lung with Blanca, hearing _Corsican Skating Club_, and voices asking him the wrong questions over and over.  
  
And the one question hovering in his mind, too…  
  
_What if I’d just kept my mouth shut and stayed with Dino?_  
  
Ash squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his hands.  
  
“Hey…” He felt Eiji’s hand on his back, gently rubbing in circles.  
  
“When I switched coaches…” Ash swallowed. “I started getting lower marks on artistry. They got better this year, but… at first it felt like the judges were punishing me for turning on Dino. Especially the American ones.”  
  
“That’s awful!”  
  
Ash exhaled. “I think it was mostly in my head now. I mean, my marks did go down, but… I wasn’t giving it everything I had. But in the moment, I felt like I was. And… yesterday, it was the same thing. I thought I did well, until Yut-Lung did better than me.”  
  
“You did do well!” Eiji insisted. “It’s crazy how close the two of you were scored! And he wasn’t perfect, either!”  
  
“He…” Ash frowned. He hadn’t heard that before. “He wasn’t?”  
  
“No!” Eiji laughed at the look on Ash’s face. “His step sequence was really wild, too wild. Didn’t you see the protocols? He got a Level 2 and negative grade of execution. Almost the same as you got for that one camel spin.”  
  
“Oh.” Ash felt sort of stupid. How had he not noticed that when he was looking at the breakdown of his own score?  
  
“So don’t think you have to be perfect to win. Almost nobody achieves perfect, especially in this sport.”  
  
It felt like a huge burden had been lifted off Ash’s shoulders. There was still plenty to be anxious about, sure, but… he was only 0.02 behind. That really was nothing.  
  
Ash balled his hands into fists, and straightened up. “I’ve got to get my ass in gear. The event hasn’t started yet, has it?”  
  
“Uh, I think Ladies is ending right about now—“  
  
“Right. Let’s go. And Eiji?” Ash smiled, faintly. “Thank you.”  
  
They went back to the hotel to get Ash’s bag before heading over to the arena.  
  
“Hey, I know it sounds kind of impossible right now but…” Eiji hesitated, then smiled. “Try to have fun out there, okay?”  
  
Ash laughed. “We’ll see.”  
  
With that, Eiji left to go through the public entrance and Ash headed inside.  
  
After changing into his costume (black pants, a green suit jacket and a sewed on tie) Ash found Max.  
  
Truthfully, he was expecting to be chewed out for disappearing, but instead Max surprised him with a tight hug.  
  
“You okay, kid?”  
  
“I’m fine!” Ash shoved him off. “Just working through some stuff. Don’t worry, I’ll skate better than I did at practice.”  
  
“You’d better!” Shorter called, stepping out in a pink jacket with sparkling cravat.  
  
Ash gaped. “That’s… a new costume.”  
  
“The crowd’s gonna love it, you’ll see!” Shorter winked. “It’s not a typical classical program, so why should I have a typical classical outfit? Have you seen what Lee is wearing?”  
  
“He’s skating to Dracula, right?” Ash shrugged. “So red and black crystals everywhere.”  
  
“By way of a cheongsam with a high slit up one leg, which even with tight pants underneath might get him a costume violation.” Shorter shook his head. “Stupid, really.”  
  
Ash cued up the Billy Joel medley he was skating to on his phone and found an unoccupied corner to go through his program on the floor a couple times before switching to his usual playlist and jogging around, just generally warming himself up. He briefly cursed not having utilized his practice session better, but well, too late for that now.  
  
And suddenly he saw on the screen that the zamboni was leaving the ice for the final group and it was time to go out there.  
  
Soo-Ling Sing led the way through the curtains, followed by two guys Ash didn’t immediately recognize but Shorter did, judging by their animated conversation.  
  
“You left that practice session awfully quickly, Lynx.”  
  
Ash didn’t do Yut-Lung the courtesy of turning around. “I did what I needed to do.”  
  
A laugh. “Seen Eiji lately?”  
  
Ash did turn then. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”  
  
Yut-Lung pushed his face right into Ash’s, his finger jabbing Ash’s chest. “You should be focused on this. Not him. I’m your real rival.”  
  
Ash raised his eyebrows. “Jealous?”  
  
Yut-Lung’s face twisted with fury. “What?!”  
  
Ash lifted two fingers to his brow in a mocking salute, and turned away as the gate was opened, pulling off his skate guards and stepping out onto the ice.  
  
He had six minutes to get through everything he didn’t in his practice session.  
  
He started with a triple, then a quad, then went and did a couple spins. He overbalanced and fell on a triple axel, then got up and did another one cleanly. Two more quads, two more falls. A clean triple, a clean quad, another clean quad—  
  
_ “Skaters, your warm-up has ended. Please leave the ice.”_  
  
Ash headed back into the mixed zone with a largely renewed feeling of confidence somewhat offset by the fact that now he had to sit around and wait for everyone else to skate.  
  
He marked out his program again, then did a few jogging exercises, then some balancing and knee bends. He even played some dumb phone game Shorter had installed for a bit before shutting it off and heading over to the screens.  
  
The first thing he saw was Yut-Lung, stumbling out of a quad salchow.  
  
Immediately Ash turned away.  
  
_ I don’t want to know how he’s doing. What matters is what I put out there, and that has nothing to do with him._  
  
Another thought crept in: _But at least I know he’s not perfect either._  
  
Max surprised him with a hearty clap on the back. “Almost time now! You ready?”  
  
Ash nodded.  
  
They went through the curtain out into the arena, and Ash focused on the boards in front of him as he jumped a couple times and stretched his arms. He could hear by the audience reaction when Yut-Lung hit his final pose.  
  
“Ash.”  
  
Ash turned to see Blanca, smiling faintly.  
  
“May the best man win.”

Ash raised his eyebrows. "So me, then."

Blanca laughed.  
  
The gate opened, and Ash stepped onto the ice, blowing past Yut-Lung too quickly to notice his expression. A few whoops and cheers came from the audience members, but mostly it was just the quiet murmur of the crowd and the shrill tones of outdated pop rock the DJ had chosen to fill time.  
  
After circling the arena and doing a couple waltz jumps, Ash went back to Max.  
  
“All right, kid. Keep those spins centered and be patient going into your jumps. You’ve trained for this, you know what to do!” Max grinned. “And have a little fun while you’re at it!”  
  
Ash snorted. “That’s what Eiji said.”  
  
“Eiji’s a smart guy!”  
  
_“The scores please for Yut-Lung Lee.”_  
  
Ash plugged his ears, but he could still hear the audience reaction. Max nodded to him and he put his hands down, gripping the boards as he psyched himself up.  
  
_ Right._  
  
_ Time to show these people what I can do._  
  
_ “Our final skater represents the Skating Club of New York. How about a warm Boston welcome for Ash Callenreese!”_  
  
He pushed off, raising his arms as he soared towards center ice, the crowd roaring for him.  
  
“Go Ash!” someone screamed, and there were a few whoops of agreement and another round of cheers as Ash swung into his starting pose, a kind of lean with one leg bent behind the other.  
  
The first few notes of The Stranger played, and Ash dipped his chin, skating forward one foot after another in a moment of exaggerating contemplation, counting in his head.  
  
Then, just as the music picked up, Ash looked up at the judges and smiled, tossing his head (someone in the audience wolf-whistled) and dance-skated backwards, speeding up a bit to meet the beat and doing a little twirl with one leg bent (former ice dancer Jessica would say a twizzle) as the audience began to clap in time.  
  
_All right. Quad lutz._  
  
Toepick in, four and a half rotations in the air, landed.  
  
A few steps across the ice, up again into the quad salchow and he hung onto that landing, maybe a bit deeper in the knee than he’d like but it was done.  
  
He found himself mouthing along to the words of the song for a moment before leaping into his flying sit spin, at which point he had to focus on counting in his head to get those precious rotations.  
  
Moving on, he gathered speed as he did a little one foot sequence, swinging his arm in time before going into the next jumping pass.  
  
_ Quad flip._  
  
And landed.  
  
Ash could feel his own rising excitement, but tried not to get too caught up in it as he went through the next few steps, grinning at the audience and bobbing his head, throwing up one hand as he went into a spread eagle followed by a triple axel.  
  
With each landed jump, the audience got louder.  
  
The song changed keys, and Ash went into the layback spin, keeping his arms rounded like he was hugging a giant ball the way Eiji had taught him.  
  
The music cut to Honesty, and Ash slowed down, lowering his eyes as he stretched out one arm, then (as his feet continued to move) rolled his head and swung his arm as he went into a deep lunge, then up again as he carved figures into the ice with one foot, then the other, then rose up on both toe picks and threw up one arm and his head, with an expression he hoped looked emotional in the right way and not just plain exhausted as he continued his step sequence, finally closing with another twizzle and a couple slow steps backward with a hand to his head and then his heart, slowly crouching and doing a slide on one knee.  
  
The music cut to You May Be Right, the fastest piece, and Ash leapt up with a grin as the audience went wild, throwing himself into his choreography.  
  
And then he was gathering speed for one of his wilder ideas, a combination that wasn’t necessarily the most strategic mathematically, but almost nobody else was doing it and he could, so why the hell not?  
  
_ Quad toe._  
  
The audience screamed.  
  
_Triple axel._  
  
The audience roared.  
  
And okay, his landing was more than a little wobbly on that one but there was no time to think about that, not when it was time for another combination.  
  
_ Triple lutz!_ Breathe. _Triple toe!_  
  
He mouthed along with the words as he soared down the ice. And for my next trick…  
  
Triple flip, half loop, triple salchow and two foot landing on that one but god fucking damn it he’d gotten through all the jumps!  
  
Ash reveled in it, punching the air and throwing up his hands to egg the audience on, swaggering along with everything left in him, swinging up his leg and hurtling his way to center ice for his final spin as the screams of the audience got so loud he could only keep track of the music by their rhythmic clapping along.  
  
He hit his final pose, almost identical to his starting pose but with one arm out, pointing to the judges, and held it as the crowd surged to its feet, even as he was gasping for breath.  
  
_ I did it._  
  
_ I gave it everything I could give right now._  
  
All he could hear were screams and cheers, so loud he could barely make out the announcer repeating his name, and all he could see were standing ovations from everyone in the front rows and as far back as he could make out.  
  
Ash couldn’t stop smiling as he took his bows.  
  
Over at the boards Max was jumping up and down, and somewhere… somewhere in the crowd, maybe Eiji was too.  
  
He didn’t know what Yut-Lung had done, and frankly right now he didn’t care. He’d put together two of the cleanest skates he’d had since leaving Dino and he’d done it when it counted.  
  
He hadn’t been perfect, but it was enough. More than enough.  
  
Ash had barely stepped off the ice when he was nearly knocked back onto it by a bear hug from Max, who had tears in his eyes.  
  
For a moment everything was a blur, the noise, the lights, the slow motion replays of him flying through the air on every screen Ash could see.  
  
_ “The scores please for Ash Callenreese.”_  
  
Ash held his breath.  
  
First place?  
  
Second place?  
  
Either way, surely he was going to Worlds with Eiji. And hopefully with Shorter.  
  
The score was announced and Ash’s jaw dropped.  
  
“Yes!” Max screamed.  
  
_ “Ash Callenreese is currently in first place. This concludes the men’s free skate.”_

  
  
If there was a downside to being the newly crowned US Champion, it was having to do not only the press conference but so many interviews and photo shoots that by the time he finally got back to the hotel he was exhausted and Shorter (who had indeed taken third place) was already sleeping.  
  
So was Eiji. In Ash and Shorter’s room.  
  
Suppressing a laugh (Eiji’s head was pillowed on his arms on the desk with his phone next to him, clearly having only meant to close his eyes for just a couple minutes) Ash gently shook Eiji’s shoulder until Eiji started awake.  
  
“A-Ash!”  
  
“This is my hotel room,” Ash reminded him.  
  
Eiji yawned. “How did it get so late?”  
  
“Don’t remind me.” Ash wrinkled his nose. “I’m going to fall asleep tonight hearing reporters in my head asking me questions, I just know it.”  
  
Eiji smiled, sitting up straight and pushing out his chair so he was fully facing Ash. “But you’re happy.”  
  
“Yeah.” Ash laughed, smiling back. “I’m happy. Actually, I…” He hesitated. “I was kind of thinking of doing that thing I’ve been working on for the exhibition gala.”  
  
Eiji’s eyes widened. “Lust Caution? You said you’d never perform it!”  
  
“Yeah, I did.” Ash exhaled, sitting on the foot of his bed. “But… it feels right. And I want you to see it.”  
  
“You can just show it to me at the rink,” Eiji pointed out.  
  
“It’d have to be earlier than the crack of dawn for me to have the ice to myself and the lighting wouldn’t be right.” Ash frowned. “I guess without meaning to I’ve been picturing it in the dark with a spotlight this whole time.”  
  
“I haven’t got a ticket for the gala, though…”  
  
“I can get you one. I’m US Champion, after all.”  
  
His smirk must’ve been pretty big, because Eiji just laughed.

  
A good chunk of the gala practice was dedicated to rehearsing the obligatory ridiculous final group number that always looked as disjointed and awkward as it inevitably was seeing as they had little to no time to learn the choreography. Usually it was a slog, but watching the choreographer badger Yut-Lung into keeping the sour look off his face made this one more than worthwhile.  
  
“Hey, I heard you’re doing something new,” Shorter said conversationally.  
  
“Who told you?”  
  
“Pretty much everyone. Why didn’t I know about this?”  
  
“Last minute decision.” Ash shrugged.  
  
“This isn’t the one you told me you wanted to do where you’d kneel on the ice for like a solid minute to start, is it?”  
  
“55 seconds.”  
  
Shorter started laughing. “Wow! Well, this’ll be interesting. You gonna throw Jessica under the bus if the people don’t get it?”  
  
“No. If anyone asks, I’ll tell them it’s my choreography, just like my competitive programs. I’m tired of hiding.” Ash slung his arm over Shorter’s shoulder and poked his chest. “But they’re not going to ask, because it’s just a gala.”  
  
“Eh, you never know.” Shorter grinned. “Besides, officially, this is not just a gala. This is the Smucker’s Skating Spectacular!”  
  
Ash snorted loudly. “That name never stops sounding stupid.”  
  
“Sponsors, gotta love ‘em.”

  
Practice went without much further incident, though Ash did tell Shorter he didn’t want to know what Shorter thought of Lust Caution.  
  
“Tell me later. If I think too much about this, I’ll chicken out.”  
  
Shorter gave him an odd look. “It’s just another program. What’s scary about it?”  
  
“Did I say I was scared?”  
  
But it wasn’t just another program. It was… personal.

  
  
  
Again, Ash was skating last, though this time the challenge was entirely in his own head.  
  
He paced backstage as he heard bits and pieces of other people’s music floating through the curtain in between songs he was listening to on his own phone.  
  
He didn’t listen to his music, or go through the steps.  
  
He felt a little like he was going to be sick, frankly.  
  
Both too quickly and not quickly enough, he heard the audience applauding the Ladies champion, and he went out onto the darkened arena.  
  
Center ice, on his knees, facing away from where the judges had once sat. He wrapped his hands around his shoulders, lowered his head and waited for the music to begin.  
  
A sinister chord rippled through the air and Ash tightened his grip on his shoulders ever so slightly, waiting.  
  
And remembering.  
  
His mother had been the first one to put him in skates, he knew that much, though the memory was so faint it might have just been imaginary. He’d been scouted when he was still living in Cape Cod, in the Learn To Skate program, and done his early training not far from home.  
  
When his first coach raped him, he’d started planning his escape.  
  
Little did he know by moving to New York to train with prestigious coach Dino Golzine he was jumping straight from the frying pan into the fire.  
  
The first piece began to fade into the second, and Ash spread his arms, rising to his feet.  
  
Dino owned a private facility. This was good, in that it meant that Ash didn’t have to worry about dodging around casual hobbyist skaters in public sessions.  
  
It was bad in that it meant Dino could behave however he wanted in his rink and no one would breathe a word to SafeSport or any other authorities.  
  
Ash traced figures on one foot, then the next, hunching his shoulders and keeping his head lowered as he dutifully repeated the task the way Dino had taught him to. It was tedious, but it had massively improved his skating skills.  
  
As the repetitive part of the music faded into a more ominous version, Ash straightened up, stiffened in fact, and plastered a false smile on his face as he bowed and spun in the most sarcastic step sequence he could manage.  
  
So many press junkets, so many empty words. By his fourteenth birthday he’d known exactly how to say what they wanted him to say. Skating was no longer fun, it was his job. And if he wasn’t good enough, Dino had plenty of friends ready to pay for him to do worse things.  
  
Until finally, Ash had enough. He wanted to be free.  
  
The music changed again, softening, and Ash relaxed his face and body, going into a sit spin.  
  
Blowing the whistle hadn’t been easy or triumphant. He’d started by tipping off SafeSport, but eventually gone to the press with a blunt account of psychological and sexual abuse.  
  
He’d been called a liar and a malicious brat out to ruin a man’s life. He’d deleted all his social media accounts. The process was long, humiliating and harrowing.  
  
He pulled out of the spin, doing a waltz jump, and then a tight twizzle with his arms pulled in.  
  
And yet somehow in the middle of it, Shorter had been there. And Shorter had helped him find Max, a good man and coach who believed in him and wanted nothing from him but hard work and his best efforts.  
  
Ash went into a spread eagle, then another, gliding around the rink until the music went into its final part, a slow, tentatively hopeful waltz.  
  
He smiled again, a real smile.  
  
_This one’s for you, Eiji._  
  
By the time Eiji had come along, Ash had stopped believing in happy endings. Thought the best he could hope for was to finish his career on a decent note, and then fade into obscurity in some shitty mundane job, far away from figure skating.  
  
Eiji didn’t have perfect technique or the kind of charisma that made you look at him the moment he took the ice. Eiji was only starting to get his quads back, and the first time Ash saw him skate at the rink, he fell on the easiest one, a quad toe.  
  
But then he got up with a smile, and laughed about it.  
  
For a guy that had nearly lost the ability to jump altogether that was… incredible.  
  
Eiji never gave up.  
  
And seeing that made Ash realize on some level, he’d given up years ago.  
  
Ash launched himself into a triple lutz, the first challenging jump of the program, and smiled, even as he struggled to hang onto the landing. Because that was what he’d learned from Eiji.   
  
Freedom meant you didn’t have to be perfect.  
  
He leaped through the air, glided from one foot to the next, gathering speed as he went into a triple salchow, then into the layback spin.  
  
The music rose and rose with him, until they both stopped on an abrupt chord, Ash reaching up with one arm.  
  
If the audience hadn’t quite known when to applaud during Ash’s skate, they applauded wildly now, with screams from the crowd as the spotlight went on again and Ash took his bows.  
  
And then everyone came out for the group number, Shorter bumping up against him deliberately with a grin as they all stumbled through the steps and the pairs and dance men lifted and spun their partners as David Bowie’s Let’s Dance blared and the audience clapped in time.  
  
And at the end of it all, there stood Eiji, waiting for Ash outside the arena with tears in his eyes.

"Hey, don't cry. That final number wasn't _that_ bad."

Eiji choked back a laugh, scrubbing at his eyes with one hand. "You know that's not the reason!"

He did, but he also felt a certain self-consciousness about it. "I don't know if I'll ever perform it again, honestly. Feels weird knowing they're going to show that on TV at some point."

"It's brilliant," Eiji insisted. "You should be proud. I know it must've taken a lot of courage to perform it."

"You gave me that courage."

He hadn't meant to say it, but there it was.

Eiji's eyes widened, and Ash thought he even saw the beginnings of a blush coming on. "Me? But I didn't do anything."

"Yes, you did." Ash smiled, faintly. "I don't think I'd be US Champion if you hadn't been here."

Eiji ducked his head, clearly embarrassed. "Well, I... I'm glad I was here."

Ash grinned, slinging his arm over Eiji's shoulders. "Come on, let's get dinner. We've got tonight to celebrate before it's time to head home and start training for Worlds."

"Oh yeah, Max made some arrangements, we're meeting him and Jessica and Shorter..."

"All of us?" Ash made no attempt to conceal his annoyance. "Do we have to?"

Eiji laughed. "Yes! Come on, it'll be fun!"

Well, even if it wasn't, he could put up with it. "Fine."

"And Ash?"

Ash glanced at Eiji, who was beaming. "Yeah?"

Eiji grinned. "I'm gonna train so hard, I might even beat you at Worlds!"

Ash laughed out loud. "I'd like to see you try!"

**Author's Note:**

> Because I am a ridiculous nerd, I actually cut program music for this story in GarageBand but I have no idea where to post them that they won’t be taken down for copyright violation, so I’ll just list the pieces of music in question, all of which are on YouTube. 
> 
> Ash’s gala exhibition skate is Lust Caution, Raindrops and Playacting (by Alexandre Desplat from the movie Lust Caution) followed by River Waltz (by Alexandre Desplat from the movie The Painted Veil).
> 
> Ash’s free skate is to The Stranger, Honesty and You May Be Right by Billy Joel. 
> 
> Yut-Lung’s short program is to Aquarium and Danse Macabre by Camille Saint-Saens.
> 
> Ash’s short program music is inspired by Ashley Wagner of the USA’s short program from 2013-14 which you can watch here if you are so inclined https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PwCQ0jA_zqc
> 
> Eiji’s injury and recovery is based on that of Sota Yamamoto of Japan.


End file.
